


you were always my forever

by hlae



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-12 22:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlae/pseuds/hlae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I want you,” says Kuroko, and he sounds so surprised that Kise has to laugh.</p><p>(Or: how they got together, and everything else)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you were always my forever

Kuroko showed up Tuesday morning for practice with a gauze bandage over the back of his left calf. They wouldn’t even have noticed if not for the fact that everyone plays basketball in shorts and the bandage, indiscernible against Kuroko’s skin, had slipped off mid-practice.

He insisted he fell when Aomine asked (demanded), furious—never mind the fact that it was shaped oddly like a shoe print and who falls like that, anyway—and if Akashi’s smiles were just this side of freezing, well. No one’s ever said they didn’t care.

“Kurokocchi...” Kise had said, speechless, and Kuroko had simply looked at him from beneath his lashes.

They played as if nothing had happened, but Kise had been strangely furious; for this small, quiet boy who refused to allow others to fight his fights for him.

 

* * *

 

_“Marry me,” Kise says one night. It slips out accidentally, before he can grab the words and shove them back into his mouth, back into that cache where he stored things such as the fact that he can't live without Kuroko. His own ardour frightens him sometimes, that slow ache that threatens to consume. And now Kuroko knows._

_His brain finally catches up with his mouth—Kuroko is looking at him, wide-eyed. Kise looks away, at the TV. A sitcom is still playing, as if oblivious to the gravity of the situation._

_“Haha,” he laughs weakly, “I’m just ki—”_

_“Okay.”_

_Kise stops._

_“What?”_

_“Okay. I want to marry you.”_

_Kise turns to look at him properly for the first time since he blurted out the words. Kuroko’s eyes are still wide, but now he notices that they’re shining, that a faint pink is starting to tinge his cheeks. He’s smiling and looking at Kise as if he never wanted anything more._

_Kise smiles back. His face hurts with how wide his lips are stretched, but he can’t bring himself to care._

_“Wow,” he says, speechless. And then: “Okay. Okay we’ll get married, and we’ll invite Aominecchi and Kagamicchi and Momoicchi and—wait, who’s going to be the bridesgroom? Oh my god we’re going to have to send out so many invitations—”_

_Kuroko cuts him off with a kiss._

_“We’ll worry about that part later,” he says. “And don’t forget about the honeymoon.”_

_Kise can feel the tips of his ears warming—even after 3 years together, Kuroko’s straightforwardness makes him blush. Especially when he’s using it to tease._

_“Although I am a little upset,” continues Kuroko. If Kise didn’t know better, he’d claim Kuroko was pouting._

_“What, why?” he says._

_“I wanted to be the one to propose to you.” His grin is sly._

_“Oh my god.” Kise can’t handle this. He lets his face drop into open palms and splutters a little._

_Looking up, he replies, “You can propose to me in public and then no one will know I proposed first.”_

_Kuroko purses his lips, looking thoughtful. He slides closer on the sofa until he’s practically in Kise’s lap. Kise wraps his arms around him, holds Kuroko close, revelling in the warmth of his body._

_“No,” says Kuroko, “it’s fine.”_

_They fall asleep like that, and even the sharp crick in his neck once morning comes can’t make Kise regret it._

* * *

 

He’s going to be late for dinner. This is the third time in a row, and man, his mother’s going to be so angry.

To be fair, Kise was distracted–they’d all been changing, and Kise had turned to see the curve of a spine and the pale contours of a flexing torso disappear underneath the Teikou uniform shirt.

Midorima, who had happened to glance up at the same time, followed his line of sight. When he saw that it was only Kuroko, he turned back, quirking an eyebrow at Kise’s speechlessness.

Kise had laughed awkwardly in reply; luckily most of the team ignored it because they were used to his special brand of insanity. In the meantime, he had struggled not to fall prey to his internal hysterics, then practically ran out of the change room. He walked halfway home trying (and failing) not to think of Kuroko before realizing he was still in his basketball shorts.

It’s an hour after the school day officially ends; Akashi had let them off early, in an unusually gracious mood. It probably had something to do with the recent tournament and their easy win.

The school doors are locked, but that’s no problem; Kise jiggles the door handle in a rather complicated motion and it clicks open. There’s something to be said for Teikou’s lack of security, despite their apparent prestige.

He reaches his locker in record speed and gathers his uniform and books. The school is quiet, devoid of the usual raucousness. It feels hollow. Kise has one foot out the door when the sound of conversation reaches him, muted by brick walls. Curious, he doubles back; there’s a soft glow emanating out from the doors of the gym.

“—no right,” someone was saying. It sounded like one of the upperclassmen.

“We’re all working hard every day,” said another voice, firmly—Kuroko? What was he doing here?

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but please understand the efforts of the first string.”

“Shut up.” A third person, now. “It’s bad enough, having a useless player like you on the team—I’ve seen you shoot hoops; if I didn’t know better I’d say you were aiming to miss, you’re so good at it.”

Ugly laughter. Kise’s hand tightens on the door handle, but he hesitates—he’s not sure Kuroko will appreciate him barging in, no matter how badly he wants to help.

“And now Kise, what I wouldn’t give to sock him in the face—pretty boy, thinks he’s better than us—”

“Please stop,” says Kuroko suddenly, “Kise may be new but he trains as hard as any of us. Please don’t disparage his progress.”

Something swells in Kise’s chest, spilling over and suffusing his entire being with warmth. His throat is tight.

“It’s wrong to fault someone just for his skills, no matter how bad you might feel. Petty jealousies like this won’t help the team—”

There’s a soft sound, unmistakably like that of fist hitting flesh—no answering groan, of course Kuroko wouldn’t make a sound, and maybe he could have waited it out, before this, but now it’s too late, his head is hazy and he wrenches the door open so hard it slams right into the wall.

Kuroko’s on the floor, yet he’s still the first to turn around, eyes wide. There’s a bruise on his cheek, blooming bright red against the pallor of his skin. Distantly, Kise can hear shouts of surprise but the only thing he can see clearly is Kuroko. He turns to see two unfamiliar faces (frightened faces, his mind registers, but he doesn’t care)—how dare they—how _dare_ they—

“Kise,” says Kuroko. There’s a hand on his elbow and a soft voice behind him. His arm is cocked back, as if to deliver a punch.

“It’s not worth it.”

The upperclassmen are staring at him warily. Images flit through his mind—the dark imprint on Kuroko’s leg, the bright red one now, on his cheek. Kise doesn’t drop his arm, but surges forward instead—the upperclassmen’s eyes widen in shock, and they move as if to defend; way too slow. His hand slams into the wall, open-palmed, beside the head of the taller one.

“Well, maybe we should find out,” says Kise, and he’s never heard himself sound like that, low and lilting and _dangerous_.

The other one’s already gone by now, ran as soon as Kise’s attention was off him. As soon as he lifts up from the wall this one turns tail and runs too. Cowards, the both of them; Kise’s disgusted. It’s utterly despicable: picking on one of their own teammates, and someone who wouldn’t fight back, too.

Kise comes to, still breathing hard. A fierce protectiveness had burst open in him, dug deep within that hard, cynical place inside and steadied. He feels hypersensitive, keenly aware of himself and that feeling deep in his chest. He turns around now to see Kuroko watching him measuredly.

Kise waits for Kuroko to say ‘I could have handled it,’ or ‘You didn’t need to do that, Kise-kun.’ He crosses his arms pre-emptively.

“Thank you,” Kuroko says instead. Then, predictably, “I can hold my own, you know.”

There’s a beat.

“I know,” says Kise, “but I wanted to, anyway.”

They go their separate ways, but Kise can’t help feeling that something’s changed, that something inexplicable has passed between them.

He’s oddly buoyed by the thought.

 

* * *

 

_“What were you doing there, anyway,” Kise would ask, years later, in bed, limbs tangled askew with Kuroko’s. He stretches and yawns, movements tempered with indolence._

_Kuroko looks over at him from above the sleek frame of his glasses, fingers resting on the cover of tonight’s reading material. Kuroko consumes books like Kagami consumes food._

_“Practicing,” he says, after a moment. He doesn’t go back to reading, just looks at Kise._

_Kise remembers: watching an unknown figure shoot endlessly from a crack in the doorway; hearing the solitary thud of a basketball despite being the last to leave; dark-eye circles underneath inquisitive eyes. Always, always, it seemed, Kuroko cared more than anyone else._

_“Oh,” he replies instead, and clenches his fist to stop from reaching out, because even after all this time, the injustice rankles._

_Because Kuroko knows him, he takes off his glasses and pulls Kise closer, wrangles his pressed lips into a slow, open-mouthed kiss. His book lies on the dresser, forgotten._

* * *

 

In the dark of night, Kise thinks of curling his hand around Kuroko’s nape, of soothing the purple imprints with his mouth.

It’s odd for him, to want Kuroko, to want anyone this much. Kise’s rather indiscriminate, gender-wise, about whom he finds attractive (the curve of a muscled shoulder here, the swell of a breast there), but even so, Kuroko remains an anomaly in the face of successions of models. Like always, Kise can’t figure him out.

His want is a palpable thing. It aches in time with the beat of his heart.

 

* * *

 

_“I can’t believe you moved in with Kise,” says Kagami around a mouthful of burger. Kuroko can barely see over the overflowing plate between them._

_“Why not? We_ are _dating, after all.”_

_It had been a long time coming too; Kise practically lived at his house (his mother knew way too many intimate details about his boyfriend) and even the comparably smaller number of times Kuroko has stayed over at Kise’s had warranted an extra toothbrush in the bathroom, his plain shirts mixed in among Kise’s flashy clothes and the pantry stocked with his favourite foods (though that last one was probably just Kise being Kise). Moving in together had seemed inevitable._

_“Yeah, but it’s Kise. He’ll cling to you 24/7 if you let him.”_

_Kuroko doesn’t tell him that he likes it, that after years of being passed over, being picked last, Kise’s attention is startlingly fresh. Often times it’s as overwhelming off the court as on it, like looking directly at the sun. But it warms a small, secret place inside his chest. A place he never thought he had._

_Kuroko shrugs and takes a sip of his milkshake instead._

* * *

 

In retrospect they probably should’ve picked a better day for an outing, but Kise looks at the colour suffusing Kuroko’s pale skin and can’t muster up enough regret. It helps that he purposefully didn’t wear gloves in the hopes that he’d get to hold Kuroko’s hands—for warmth, obviously, if anyone asks. He does what he has to do, right?

He doesn’t really know why Kuroko’s agreed to take a walk with him, didn’t really expect a ‘yes’ when he called (especially today of all days), but he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Kise rarely sees Kuroko enough as it is, both of them busy with their own schools and their own teams.

The sun isn’t out but the skies are clear enough, if not for the falling snow. Already, the ground is covered in a blanket of white and the trees shiver as if, they too, feel bare without their leaves. The few pedestrians walking the streets seem to be heading somewhere rather than simply enjoying the weather.

Beside him, Kuroko shivers, a minute thing, but there, nonetheless. Kise stops walking to unwind the fabric around his neck.

“It’s cold.” he says, and wraps his scarf around Kuroko’s neck, ignoring his protestations. “You should have worn more today, it’s snowing pretty heavily.”

“I was in a hurry,” mutters Kuroko, an odd blush on his cheeks. Kise wants to tell him he’s adorable but he suspects he’ll get hit.

He lifts his gaze upwards, towards the sky. The snow is still falling, but faster now, a veritable whirlwind of white. Kise sticks his tongue out to catch a snowflake; it melts sharply on his tongue.

He looks down to see that Kuroko isn’t watching the snow, but instead is gazing at him with an odd expression on his face. He flushes sheepishly, Kuroko probably thinks he’s—

“I want you,” says Kuroko, and he sounds so surprised that Kise has to laugh. It’s not what he expected to hear at all and it makes his stomach flip.

“Ouch, Kurokocchi. My ego is bruised.”

Kuroko laughs like it’s been startled out of him—the sound of it curls around Kise’s ear, a living thing. It feels soft and warm.

“That’s not what I meant, I just.” he looks up at Kise, and his smile is fond. “I think I knew all along, I just didn’t want to admit it.”

Kise makes a face. “Because you don’t want to be attracted to me?”

Kuroko rolls his eyes and holds out a hand indulgently. Kise deigns to grasp his fingers, then sticks both their hands in his pocket. Kuroko looks a tad disgruntled, but otherwise makes no move to pull away; on an impulse, Kise kisses him.

Kuroko hesitates for a moment, but then he’s kissing back and everything is centered on the warm press of lips on lips. Kise licks into his mouth, coaxingly, and weaves his free hand through Kuroko’s hair. He takes a moment to breathe and Kuroko chooses this time to pull away. He leaves his hand in Kise’s pocket.

Kuroko’s cheeks are flushed and his lips are a stain against his skin, both redder than the temperature warrants. His hair is messy and he looks debauched. Kise’s sure he doesn’t look much better, if the swollen feeling of his mouth is anything to go by.

“More like, I was afraid,” says Kuroko, a rueful twist to his mouth. Kise kisses him again, this time on the corner of his mouth, until the curl of Kuroko’s lips turns upwards.

He doesn’t say, _of you leaving me_. Kise understands, anyway; they’re similar in that regard, at the very least.

“So we’re going out now, right?” He means to sound confident but it comes out hesitant, small. His throat feels dry.

Kuroko only smiles at him. The ensuing kiss is answer enough. 

 

* * *

 

_They tell everyone 3 months after they officially start dating._

_“If you hurt him I’ll kill you, Ki-chan,” says Momoi sweetly. Kise gulps and nods frantically. Kuroko laughs silently from behind Momoi’s back._

_“You have poor taste, Tetsu,” is Aomine’s comment, something which apparently quite a few others agree with. Ironically, Midorima is one of them, and Kise would find this hilarious if he wasn’t busy feeling indignant._

_“Hey!” Kise cries._

_“I know,” Kuroko tells Aomine; behind him, Kise yells again, ‘Hey! I’m right here, you know!” They ignore him._

_Kagami pats Kise on the back in what is supposed to be a consoling manner; he tells Kise, loudly, that he knows how much of a bastard Kuroko can be and that he hopes Kise knows what he’s in for. It just leaves Kise confused. In return, Nigou mysteriously appears in the room after a time period during which Kuroko was also suspiciously missing. Case in point._

_Later, Kuroko will stay over at Kise’s house; Kise’s mother will tell him he’s such a nice boy and lament the fact that ‘Ryouta isn’t quite so calm, what a shame.’_

_They’ll go up to his room and Kise will lie in bed and sulk at the fact that everyone’s so mean to him—Kuroko will chase away his sorrows with the heat of his tongue, map the silence between them with his fingertips. In return, Kise will offer up the other part of those half-truths he emits by daylight, but only in muffled phrases, and the touch of skin on skin. There are still roads to be travelled, things to be said, but this, here, is as easy as breathing._

_All will be well._

**Author's Note:**

> For clarification: italics are from future to present, regular text is from past to present.


End file.
